I know I talk big about doing justice even when you think you can’t. But I have to add that excuses are not always lame. While it is beautifully true that God strengthens believers to do works they thought they couldn’t handle, it is just as true that sometimes He wants people to lay low. If you feel diapers, finger paint and lumbering through pregnancy is all you can manage right now or if other circumstances in your life have you pinned to the wall or sprawled on the floor, don’t feel obligated to dollop on more.
For me, when I moved to a new town during my second pregnancy, I struggled with guilt over not “doing justice.” I was convinced that I was not living out God’s will because I wasn’t helping at risk kids or serving the poor. I reasoned, if there are so many unloved children in this world, how can I just make my own babies then hunker down to fixate on them? Micah6:8, Isaiah1:17, and James1:27 wound through my head like a reel. I couldn’t even content myself with extra donations because of our new grad student budget. I searched for opportunities and tried to scrounge up time and energy, but none came so I reluctantly sat back and focused on my home and prayer. I found that the decision was exactly what I and my family needed. I realized that I had believed that I was not enough if I wasn’t doing enough. But once I couldn’t do, I learned a valuable lesson: my actions had absolutely no bearing on my status. My status always and only rests in redemption.
Recently, with a 3 year old and a 1 year old, I was able to take on two projects outside of these four walls and that activity breathed much needed life into me. But now, as I enter the third trimester of my third pregnancy, I am anticipating scaling back again. And that is okay. I look forward to a time when I can pour myself into helping the marginalized. But for now, marginalized is what my children would be if it weren’t for my committed love and sweat. At the Christian Alliance for Orphans Summit, Denise Kendrick’s words encouraged me greatly. Denise is the Programs Director for Embrace: The Church Reclaiming the Care of Orphans and Waiting Children. She recommended that foster parents take respite years when they need it- that once their home and vigor are empty, they can and should rest. She gave me permission to sit back when she said, “There is a season to serve and there is a season to be served.” I can take a hint: when women in my church come to me offering babysitting, meals and grocery runs just so that I can sit down, I know that I am in a “be served” phase.
Letting others serve me humbles me to the point of discomfort. You too? I think of Peter arguing with Jesus at the last supper, “Do not wash my feet!” Yes, Jesus acts
humbly in washing the disciple’s feet and we are certainly called to humble ourselves by serving those around us like He did. But it is also immensely humbling to sit down and let your feet be washed. If I resist letting someone serve me when I need it, I should step back and examine my motives. Is it pride, not humility, that drives my refusal? Experiencing both sides of the transaction is essential to spiritual growth.
So you foot-washers out there, up to your nose in responsibilities and struggling with guilt over not adding social justice to your regimen, fret not. If you have already thrown off the time and energy devouring distractions of materialism, vanity, ambition, envy, and other hangups that hinder movement toward the calling you have received, relax your shoulders and breathe easier. Rest in knowing you are doing enough. And remember that whether you are doing or not, you are already enough.
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